


Ancient Vows

by Chericola



Category: Deltora Quest - Emily Rodda
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4367735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chericola/pseuds/Chericola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the time of Adin to Lief's time, vows have been a part of Deltora's history. Here are some tales, chronicling the making of each vow and the people who were bound to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Torans' Pledge

They gathered in the city square: Adin, his wife Zarah, and hundreds of Torans in colourful robes that shimmered with light as they walked. After order ensued from the initial chaos of so many people coming to one place, Adin found himself standing beside the huge rock that bore proof of the Torans' allegiance to him, facing the people of Tora, gazing at their determined, faithful faces.

They were so willing to trust that he would rule Deltora to the best of his ability, so willing to pledge their loyalty to him, a blacksmith from Del. Adin was both glad and humbled by their loyalty and terrified by it. What if he failed them all? What if he did not succeed in preventing another invasion from the Shadowlands? What if their trust in him was misplaced?

Adin kept his head bowed so they would not notice the trepidation plain on his face. They needed to see him strong and at ease, not weak and overwhelmed by the enormity of the idea of ruling a kingdom. When he had set out to convince the tribes to add their gems to the Belt he had created from a dream, he had not expected to become king of a united land. He was after all, only a blacksmith from Del, and knew nothing about the daily business of ruling a kingdom such as the Land of Dragons. Secretly, he would have preferred the mantle to go to someone else, but it had gone to him and he would do the best he could for his people and kingdom. The Belt had chosen him, had shone for him on the battlefield as he wore the completed Belt for the first time.

He felt Zarah's hand gently touch his arm, and drew strength from its familiar touch. 'Are you ready, Adin?' she asked him gently. 'They are waiting for you.'

He took a shuddering breath, and nodded. Please, he prayed to whoever deity was listening, help me to be a strong king, to lead my people well, to protect them from the Shadow Lord. Help me be worthy of the great task that I have been given. It is all that I ask.

He lifted his head and stepped forward, his gaze raking each Toran in the square. He wanted to ask them, Are you certain of this? Do you really want to go through with this, even knowing that you will have a price to pay if you break it? But Torans were proud by nature, and would have been offended if he questioned their decision. And Adin knew that he would need their goodwill if ever the Shadow Lord tried to invade Deltora again. So Adin did not voice his concerns to the people of Tora.

'People of Tora,' Adin began, 'do you vow to be loyal to your king and those that come after him?'

'We so vow,' they murmured, eyes blazing with conviction.

'Do you vow to support them in times of need, and not turn them away?'

'We so vow.'

'Then let this vow be sealed in this rock, and be a symbol of what has just occurred.' Adin stepped back beside Zarah who smiled at him and held his hand, her face a picture of serenity.

The Toran leader, Zarah's own father, stepped forward from among the crowd, and signalled to them. The Torans held up their hands, their sleeves fluttering, and recited, 'We, the people of Tora, swear loyalty to Adin, and all of his blood who follow him. If ever this vow is broken, may this rock, our city's heart, break also, and may we be swept away, forever to regret out dishonour.'

For a moment, it was as if the world was frozen. No one body moved a muscle; all eyes were riveted on the rock. It glowed with emerald green light, and then faded to its usual grey hue. But a mystical power still emanated from it.

Adin let out a huge breath. It was over. Now, the business of ruling would begin. On the morrow, he and Zarah would travel to Del to take up residence in his forge, from where he would receive messages and visitors from each of the seven tribes informing him of the state of the land.

Although he was thankful for and humbled by the Torans' pledge of loyalty, he could not help but feel a sliver of unease. They would keep to their pledge in his lifetime, he knew. But what of the centuries to come? Adin had a strong feeling they would forget about the importance of their vow, and would dismiss it as a legend. And then what would become of them if they were asked to honour their vow? They might refuse, and be swept away for eternity, Adin thought. He could only pray and hope that they kept their pledge in the centuries to come.


	2. The Upstart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the time of Adin to Lief's time, vows have been a part of Deltora's history. Here are some tales, chronicling the making of each vow and the people who were bound to them.

Doran the Dragonlover walked through silent halls, halls filled with darkness. Darkness the king himself was unaware of, and his young son the prince as well. Doran felt it clearly, as if it were slithering over him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck—the treachery, the evil that lurked. Sisters four with poisoned breath…

Doran shuddered. Although there was no Sister placed in Del yet, there would be soon. The Sisters of the North and East were already in place, and the Sisters of the West and South would follow quickly. Monstrous beings, created to be the ruin of the kingdom, to lay waste to its land, the crops that fed its people, and drain all the hope from their hearts, bit by bit. It was abominable. It was terrible. How could such a thing be? How could the king be so blind?

Oh, if only he would mingle with the people, as the great Adin had done!

It was what Doran had constantly begged him to do. The king never listened to him. Instead, he listened to the whispers of his chief advisor, Drumm. And Drumm told him that it was safer for him to remain in the palace, away from the ordinary people. They will try to kill you, Drumm said. They are faithless, these peasants, and if you walk among them they will stab you in the heart, when you least expect it. Think of your son, sire! So the king stayed ensconced in his palace, too afraid for his life, and that of his son, to listen to any sort of counsel Doran could have given him about what was happening to their land.

He had not even bothered to listen to a word of the warning Doran had attempted to give him, shortly before leaving to begin his long journey to meet with his dragon-friends. Doran recalled the look of thinly veiled contempt and disbelief which hovered in the king's eyes, even as he politely vowed to heed the advice given to him. A warning come too late, Doran thought bitterly. Two of the Four Sisters were already in place, as the Shadow Lord had planned, and there were no dragons to fight against them now. That, Doran knew, was his own doing, and fate only knew if it would save the land or lead it to more ruin.

He recalled, even more clearly, the scorn in Drumm's eyes, as they met Doran's, and the triumph there, as well. Drumm had never bothered to hide his hatred of Doran, nor his disgust. To the king, Doran was a mad-man, with a wild tale on his lips, to be indulged and restrained, whenever necessary. To Drumm, however, Doran was dangerous. Drumm did not think that Doran knew his thoughts, but he did. He was the upstart, a danger to Drumm and the master he served. He had always actively worked to bring the king back to his people, and the people back in harmony with the dragons that protected them. Drumm hated that.

Drumm was a Shadow Lord servant. Of that Doran was certain. It was he who was to be involved in the placing of the Sisters. Doran almost shuddered again to think of it. What kind of person would do this to their own kingdom? What had the Shadow Lord promised Drumm, if he would do this terrible thing? Power, magic, riches beyond imagining? Granted, Drumm was not the most likeable of people, but what on earth could the Shadow Lord have given him which convinced him to betray his land and king in this way?

It did not matter now, of course. What mattered was that Drumm was a traitor, and that the Shadow Lord was laying waste to the land. Doran had tried to tell the king as much, but he would not listen. He never listens, Doran thought bitterly. It will be his downfall, in time.

The dragons would never have condoned any of what the Shadow Lord plotted. Each would have set out to destroy the evil in their territory, not caring whether they lived or died in the process. His friends… Veritas, Hopian, Forta Fortuna, Fidelis, Honora, Joyeu. The names were imprinted on his heart. He recalled each word they had said to him before they settled into their slumber, and each promise he had given them in return. Do not fear, he had told them. A king will come one day, to wake you from your slumber, carrying the Belt of Deltora with him. All is not lost. Believe me, my friend.

They had believed him. And they slept. It almost destroyed Doran to see it, despite it all. For all of the evil threatening their land, for all this was truly necessary, they were his friends. His only friends, who truly cared and believed in him. Fate knew that humanity had long since stopped doing so. The dragons had spoken to him, carried him on their backs like a friend, had loved him as if he were one of their own. There were many good memories in his soul-stone, filled with dragons of every colour and their names, the names Doran would always carry close to his heart. Veritas, Hopian, Forta Fortuna, Fidelis, Honora, Joyeu… He longed to call out to them, and the knowledge that they were never answer him again nearly tore him in two.

And he did not even know if their sacrifice had been worth it.

Perhaps it had not been. For all he knew, he had merely paved the way for the Shadow Lord, by removing the greatest threats to his plan. Perhaps a king would never wear the Belt again. Perhaps a king would never dare take that journey around Deltora, and awaken the dragons once more. Doran hoped that his promise was true, that he had not lied unwittingly to his friends. The only thing worse than the knowledge that he would never see his friends fly again was the thought that they would never wake to fly again. Please, he prayed to fate. Let it all work out as it will. Let my friends be able to feel the air underneath their wings once more, in a safer era. Do not let this all have been in vain.

Because of him, the dragons were gone from the skies. The Shadow Lord could place the Sisters in their positions readily, with no fears of retaliation. Too late, Doran had realised what was happening. By the time he had known of the Four Sisters and their threat to the land, he had already convinced the dragons to sleep. If he had not, perhaps they could have saved Deltora, with the help of the king's son, Prince Gareth, and the Belt. For only the true king, wearing the Belt, could awaken the dragons and destroy the Sisters.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps Gareth would have been as blind as his father, and as willing to listen to Drumm's ill-meaning advice. But it did not matter now. The dragons were gone, and the Sisters were in place. Something had to be done about it, whatever the cost.

He had to convince the people that his warnings had merit, that there was truly evil in Deltora. To do this, he would need proof of what he claimed. He would need to find the Sisters.

Then, perhaps, he could return to Del, where he would finally be believed, and the king would finally begin to listen to him as if he were not a mad-man. Then, when Gareth was old enough, he would make that journey to awaken the dragons and destroy the Sisters, wearing the Belt of Deltora always, as the great Adin had. He would usher in a new golden era of peace and freedom from the evils of the Shadow Lord.

Perhaps.

First, Doran needed collect the proof he needed to get them all to listen.

He may not have been a king, carrying the Belt of Deltora, and all the magic that went with it, but he was a man, and he loved Deltora with all his heart. Had he not explored it all, marvelling at its wonders, jotting down his discoveries in The Deltora Annals? Had he not descended to the very depths, into the caverns of the earth, befriending the strange race of people that lived there? This would be no different. It could not be any different.

Then why was he shaking so much?

Fate protect me, he prayed. Protect us all.

On the walls, the shadows flickered, as if in response to his plea. The very air was full of menace this night. You do not belong here, they said. You never did. They were right. Always, he belonged among dragons. Among wilderness and lush green landscapes and the wonders that would always set his heart beating anew. The underground caverns. Seas of deepest crimson, brightest gold; seas that shone with all the colours of the rainbow…

Lands beyond that of the Shadow Lord's reach. Lands with such beauty, and yet so much danger—danger from the ancient earth, and from the Lord of Shadows himself.

Always, Doran would regret not exploring further.

It would be dark when he left Del, he knew. The roads would be far more dangerous that in daylight. He did not wish to stay any longer, however. Let me go, go on this journey, however fatal it may prove. Let me go, and not linger.

There were fates much worse than death, he knew.


	3. Zara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the time of Adin to Lief's time, vows have been a part of Deltora's history. Here are some tales, chronicling the making of each vow and the people who were bound to them.

For all her loyalty and love for Adin, Zara was a Toran, through and through. Wherever she went, she could not hide it: her Toran lineage in her dark hair, slightly slanted eyes and pale skin, and her immense pride at the knowledge. Her Toran magic, although weakened so far from its home territory, was not as obvious to others, but was seen clearly when she sewed beautiful clothes for the people of Del and for her own family, with threads gifted from her Toran relatives as part of her dowry. The fabric shimmered with magic, woven carefully, and though Zara knew that she was breaking a sworn vow of Tora, she did not care. These were her people, and she would do whatever she could to care for them.

Her children would be half-Toran. They would inherit the magic that was in their blood, though they would not be able to use it as they could have if they were to live in Tora. No matter. They would have to make do. She was happy, there in Del, with her belly swelling with life and the love of her husband, the king of Deltora. Her children would be happy as well. She would make sure of it.

Adin knew what it had cost her, to leave behind her family, the full strength of her magic, in Tora to join him in Del. He made no comment to her aloud, but she saw in his eyes how grateful he was for her presence in his life. If she had so dared, she would have told him that her choice had been made long ago, when she had ventured out of Tora to follow him, after her father had refused to give him the great amethyst to place in the Belt. It had been confirmed for all to see when she had given Adin the gem at last, on the Hira Plain, just before the beginning of the battle for their land.

She had never regretted it, although from time to time a part of her would yearn for minds that were unreachable and magic that could perform stronger deeds than the sewing of special garments. Betimes she would touch her swelling belly, and wonder: if she had stayed in Tora, what would her life have been like? What would her children have grown up to be, with Adin's blood and Toran mixed in their veins? What would they become now, raised as they would be in Del, in the forge cottage? These were questions she knew she would never have the answer to. Only fate knew what was in store for them all.

Each day, before dawn, Adin would work in the forge, shaping metal into swords, axes, horseshoes and other things which Zara knew almost nothing about. During the day, he would see to the running of their new kingdom, with Zara by his side. Although she was becoming bigger and bigger with child, she still insisted on accompanying him to these meetings with the tribes' representatives.

'I am the queen,' she told him firmly. 'I am entitled to be there. How can you expect me to help you to care for our people if I do not know them and their troubles?'

Adin, knowing that she would not be moved, merely laughed and shook his head. 'My love,' he said, smiling. 'You are right, of course. You are always right. Do you think I would ever tell you what you should be doing?'

No, he would not, Zara knew. He never did. All his life, he had prayed to find a woman worthy of marrying, a woman he could wed for love. A woman strong, brave, and true. Zara was all that, and more. She would never have condoned a marriage in which she was the submissive wife, obedient to all her husband's whims. No, she wanted a wedding between equals, between a king and his love who would be queen in name and deed. She had one. And Adin had brought her home to Del, to the forge, and they had promised each other that theirs would be a marriage of equals. They would respect one another as king and queen, husband and wife. Not once would they tell each other what they should be doing, as if they were ordering a servant or a child. Months later, the vow remained unbroken. Now new life was growing in her belly, and though he would be tempted, he would not break his promise, however much he wanted to. Adin was honourable, in that way.

So Zara accompanied him to all of his meetings with the people of Del, with the leaders of the Jalis, the Dread Gnomes, the Ralads, the Torans, the Mere, and the people of Hira. Some were surprised to see her, a slight Toran-born noble lady, big with child, sitting proudly beside her husband the king, presiding as much over the events as he. They muttered at her audacity. She ignored them. It was a matter between her and Adin, and they could do nothing about it. Only Greer the Jalis Knight, Az-Zure of the Dread Gnomes and her own brother Shim accepted it with no complaints.

'Good on you, lady Zara,' Greer said to her as one such meeting dispersed, leaving herself, Adin, Greer, Az-Zure, and Shim sitting together in the empty city hall. 'They are fools, if they dare speak against it. In Jaliad, women are as able fighters as we men, and perhaps even more. We would never keep them from the battlefield!' He clenched his hand into a fist, and pressed it against his chest. 'Lady Zara, I swear that if I see one person dare say that you should not play the part of a proper queen I will duel them and force them to say otherwise.'

Zara hid a smile and looked away, feeling herself flush slightly. 'Thank you, Greer.' At her side, she saw Shim bite his lip and choke back a laugh. In Tora, talks of battlefields and violence were unheard of.

'My wife does as she wills,' Adin said, holding Zara's hand. 'I will not gainsay it.'

'But truly, Adin,' Shim said, frowning. 'My sister is with child now. Your heir. Should she not stay in the forge, and not move about so much? What if she were to lose the child?'

He spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, as if nothing mattered except the child in her belly, the future king or queen of their land. It set Zara's cheeks aflame to hear it. Lose the child? What nonsense! What was her brother playing at, that he should wish to curtail her freedom in such a way? He was the only one who had truly known how stifled she had felt in Tora, how she dreamed of seeing outside of the marble walls of their city. Finally she had gotten her wish, and it was everything she could have dreamed of. Now he was suggesting that she confine herself to her home?

There was silence for a long moment. Greer stared at Shim, as if he were truly considering challenging him to a duel in Zara's honour. At first, Zara's heart burned with helpless anger, and she knew that at that moment she would have willingly allowed Greer to duel Shim in her name, no matter the consequences. Then she met Shim's eyes and saw the love, and concern, there. Concern for her. He truly did care for her, she knew, and not just the survival of the heir to Deltora. She felt her anger die, and when she finally spoke it was with a calm certainty.

'Brother,' she said quietly. 'This is my choice. My people need me. I cannot shut myself away because I am with child. There is so much to be done—Adin cannot do it alone! And you know that I could never endure two seasons of being trapped in the forge cottage.'

Shim half-smiled wryly. 'I do know.'

Adin squeezed her hand gently, and she let a small smile curve her mouth. 'Trust me, Shim,' she said to her brother. 'You have nothing to fear. You will be uncle to the first prince of Deltora.'

She was sure now that it would be a son- the babe kicked too strongly for it not to be. Beside her, Adin, who knew of her prediction, smiled, his face soft with love.

Shim looked at them both and shook his head in mock dismay. 'It is just as well that I am not wed yet. Be off with you, both of you,' he said, as if he were not speaking to the erstwhile king and queen of Deltora. 'You both look like you long for the privacy of your bedchamber, and not these four walls.'

They went, gladly, laughing at Shim's boldness. There had been a time, once, when he would not have said such things. The unification of Deltora and Tora's introduction into the wider world had changed him greatly, and for the better. It made Zara's heart glad to see it.

Zara continued as she willed, acting as a queen in deed, and in time the people of Del became so used to the sight that the mutters were silenced completely. Zara was the queen, and had every right to do as she willed, after all. And she was a good queen, acting in the best interests of Deltora, truly caring for her people. She carried the child which would be king after Adin. The people knew that, and respected her for it.

In time, the babe was born, and it was a boy. Zara had not minded either way, and neither had Adin, but the people had prayed that it would be male. If it were a girl, Zara would have named her Leah, after her mother, but it was a boy. Adin had the naming of him, and chose 'Alderic' as a name.

The people rejoiced at the birth of a new heir. Zara rested, her back and abdomen aching from the hard labour, rocking her child to sleep against her breast. It was hard to believe that this small thing was to be the next king of Deltora. Indeed, all Zara could do was hold him close, gazing at his miniature perfection. By fate, he had eyes just like Adin!

'And his mother's will,' Adin said with pride, as he gazed with love at his wife and new son. 'His cries have woken half the street!' There was no censure in his voice, and when he pressed his lips to Zara's cheek she could feel the immense joy and relief at a safe birth and their beautiful child.

The next time, she thought with elation as she drifted on the edge of sleep that night, it would be a girl.

Yet, their joy was clouded, clouded with the knowledge of the evil that lurked just beyond the Barrier Mountains, in the place called the Shadowlands. The Shadow Lord had attempted to invade already, once before. How long would it be until he tried again? Not for a long time, the tribe leaders said. Not until centuries after Adin's death, and that of his heir.

But still, Adin was afraid. At times, deep in the night Zara woke to find his comforting presence gone from their bed, and heard the metal being hammered furiously in the forge, as if Adin were attempting to melt away his troubles. The forge was a safe-haven for him, the place which symbolised his life as it had once been. For all he was now a king, he was also a blacksmith, and plying his trade comforted him and reminded him that not everything had changed in his world. In times of fear and worry, when the Shadow Lord's Ak-Baba were spotted, preying on the dragons of Deltora, when the people sighted the fearsome Greels crossing the border during short raids, as if the Enemy was testing the mettle of this new king, Adin would retreat to the forge, to think, plan and settle his anxiety. The rhythm of work in the forge helped him, he told Zara often. It helped him to conceive solutions to the problems the people presented him with each day, and not give in to panic and despair.

It did not mean, she knew, that Adin did not need her support. He did, and she gave it whenever she could. She was a king's wife—she could do no less. And she loved him. She loved him with a passion. When he needed her, when he yearned for her support and her comfort, she was there to give it. She would always be there. She had vowed it, on the night they had wed, with all her heart.

Adin had admitted to her his fears, his feelings of unfitness for the role fate had thrown him into, as they lay together in their wedding chamber within the marble walls of Tora.

'What if I cannot do it?' he had whispered into her ear, as if the whole of Tora could hear his words. They both knew that there were not secrets in Tora. What one Toran knew, all knew. But Zara could trust her people to keep silence about all that occurred during this special and intimate night.

It hurt to see the uncertainty in his eyes, and hear the thinly-veiled fear in his voice. This was Adin, who had traversed the land in answer to a dream, who had faced and defeated the Lord of Shadows himself on the battlefield. She could not bear to see him falter now.

She had cupped his face in her hands, and smiled, though her mind was filled with sorrow at what must be, and longing, longing for him. 'Adin,' she said gently. 'The Belt chose you, and no other. You can do this, I know it. All of Deltora knows it. I will be with you, every step of the way. You will not carry this burden alone.'

For a burden it was. Neither Adin nor Zara denied it. The king of Deltora would always need to be on guard against the Enemy who resided in the Shadowlands, would always have to watch out for any signs of treachery or invasion. This Adin did, with determination and every ounce of his being. He would not allow his beloved kingdom to fall into the hands of the Shadow Lord while he lived.

'Truly?' Adin had said softly. Shadows flickered on the chamber walls, bathing his face in fragmented light. He leaned toward her, and Zara's heart fluttered at the wonder plain in his eyes as he gazed upon her. 'Truly, Zara?'

'Truly,' she said, stroking his cheek. 'I swear it, I will always be there for you. Nothing will change that.'

So she had promised, and as far as she could, she had kept her promise. Adin returned the favour, every so often. Neither of them would ever be alone with their burdens.

And so, such was their life together. Zara would not have asked for anything else, and knew that Adin felt the same. Whatever shadows the Enemy cast, whatever burdens they carried, they had each other, and their child. That had to be enough.

In her heart of hearts, she knew that it was.


	4. Adin's Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the time of Adin to Lief's time, vows have been a part of Deltora's history. Here are some tales, chronicling the making of each vow and the people who were bound to them.

Adin could not have been prouder of his children. Five of them, there were, each one as beautiful as the last. Zara had borne them all with relative ease, much to his pride and relief, and hers.

There was Alderic, his heir, who was growing more and more each day to be like Zara with her Toran looks and strength. Folk murmured in approval of Alderic's fairness and his cunning, when he was asked to preside over this or that part of Adin's duties as king. Whatever he resolved and did, it pleased Adin to see his son so dedicated to his role and well-liked by his people, who applauded him for ensuring that the city was well-stocked for the winter and dwelling in relative safety and comfort. It eased part of the burden from Adin's shoulders, and allowed him to focus on the threats that surrounded Deltora: the threat of the Shadow Lord, still existing as he did in the Shadowlands, ever waiting for a chance to claim Deltora as his own.

There was Leah, his beautiful daughter with her delicate features and her strong sense of justice. She stood now up to his shoulder, smiling at him with her mother's face. And Ronan, clever Ronan, with his love of mischief and his interest in the workings of the forge, something which none of his other children expressed. Shannara, who only reached up to his arm, and was already as lovely as the brightly-patterned tapestries Zara loved to weave every evening, telling the tale of his rise to kingship.

And then there was Alanis. She was the youngest of all, born nearly five years after Shannara, but was as mischievous and bold as her much older brother Ronan. Betimes they both did not know what to do with her, and her boundless energy. Adin could only thank fate for Az-Zure's monthly visits, for they distracted Alanis from her restlessness and gave her something constructive to do. She was not in the least capable of sitting still in the forge cottage for long, or in her crib, for that matter, and Adin could imagine that when she was older she would be quite a handful. It had been so with Ronan. And Adin rather suspected that he himself had been the same, at that age.

Not so Zara. For all of her childhood, his Toran wife had been serene and biddable- the perfect daughter, in any parents' eyes. Zara's parents had had to endure no childish tantrums, no hyperactivity, no sleep difficulties when it came to any of their offspring. Adin was both envious and admiring of them for it. He and Zara had experienced any number of problems over the years, raising their children as they did among the people of Del.

'Although,' Zara said, her eyes sparkling, 'if I had been raised outside of Tora, I do believe that I may have not been so biddable and quiet. And truly, I found Tora stifling at times. I am glad that our children will not have to grow up there as I did.'

Adin looked up at her from where he sat near the forge bellows, examining a damaged metal horseshoe, and grinned. 'I know. I do not think that Ronan would have lasted a moment there. Nor Alanis.'

'Alanis.' Zara frowned. 'She did not sleep at all well, this past night, Adin. Or any of the previous nights. Perhaps...' She hesitated, for a moment. 'Perhaps she would do better in Tora. At least for a time.'

Adin stared at her. 'How can you say such a thing?'

'It would only be for two or three years, Adin.' Zara's eyes hardened. 'We have tried all else in our power. Perhaps we ought to ask for aid, and convince Tora to shelter Alanis. They will. They owe it to me- to us. They cannot refuse.'

Adin hesitated, before speaking. 'Did we not have similar trouble with Ronan, and it passed? Perhaps we can handle Alanis as well.'

'Truly, I do not think so, Adin.' Zara's eyes shone with the conviction that she was right. Adin could not say as much, yet. For all he wanted the best for Alanis, he had to admit that he was a doting father. He could not bear the idea of being separated from any of his children, and not seeing any part of their childhood, for however short a time. The metal in his hands felt unnaturally heavy, as his mind digested Zara's suggestion.

'We must think more about this,' he said at last. 'It is an important decision, and we cannot make any changes to Alanis' life now, until we know for certain that there are no other alternatives. She is so young...' He looked quickly away, so Zara would not see the trepidation in his eyes.

Zara inclined her head toward him, but said nothing further.

As trade began, Deltora flourished, and its people were content. With each delegation, Adin would meet, the Belt glimmering around his waist as he stood in the harbour, giving only a hint of its true strength. A hint was enough—with nervous smiles, the delegates would either accept the terms of trade Adin offered to them, or flee, back to their homelands, afraid of the power the Belt revealed. Adin would return to the forge well-pleased, embrace his wife and almost grown son and daughter, and pick up his younger children and swing them in his arms, marvelling at how light they were still, and how small. Soon they would be as tall as his eldest ones, who had begun to have the air of children who were convinced that they could care for themselves.

It brought an ache to his heart to think of it.

Had it truly been only fifteen years ago, that he had stood on the Plain of Hira, preparing for battle against the Enemy, with an army standing behind him? When the Belt had shone for him, each gem blazing as brightly as the sun, proclaiming him a king? It seemed almost like a dream, from which he would wake, one day, and by fate, he would wish that he need not. Fifteen years ago, he had been a blacksmith, plying his trade, not worrying about anything other than the metal in his hands and the coins he received in return for a weapon forged, or a horseshoe mended. Anything that metal could be shaped into. Now, fifteen years later, he was king of an entire kingdom. It was almost beyond belief. If a person had told him, before, that his life would take this drastic turn, he would have laughed in their face.

However, he knew that despite all the fears, all the burdens, all the troubles he and Zara faced, he would not long to change those fifteen years, even for a moment. He had well and truly been blessed. He had a wife he loved more than life itself, and five precious children who he would love and protect as long as there was breath in his body. He had formed friendships, during his difficult travel around Deltora, which would last for a lifetime and beyond. Greel, the Jalis who had seemed so fierce when they had first met, who had given him so many lessons in swordplay, and who would even now sometimes challenge Adin to a mock-fight, and clap him on the back afterward for giving him a good fight. For all he tried, he could never disarm Greel.

Az-Zure the Dread Gnome, who had captured Adin, in their first meeting on Dread Mountain, but who Adin saved, when the green beast attacked. At the time, Adin could not say why he did so—the Gnome had been willing to use him as live bait to draw in a monster—other than that he knew in his heart that it was the right thing to do. He could not let anyone or anything, be they enemy or friend, be harmed or killed in such a horrible way. After, he had spoken to the Gnome, and had seen beneath the rough exterior most other people saw, to a person who was quick to laugh and was as brave as a Jalis, or any fighter in Deltora, for that matter. They had soon become firm friends, and still were, fifteen years later. Adin had always treasured their friendship, and was grateful for Az-Zure's support. Over and over again, she had proved herself fiercely loyal, and a close friend of the family. Whenever the Dread Gnome visited Del, which was often, she would spend much of her time at the forge entertaining Adin's children, and as such became a special friend to them.

And there was Padge, the small Ralad man who had aided him so much when he was seeking to obtain the ruby for the Belt. Like all Ralads, he was particularly gifted in building and architecture, and had long ago intricately carved a crib from wood as a gift for Adin and Zara's first-born child, so beautiful that folk would often visit simply to gaze at it. He had also organised the building of the Bone Point Light, which Adin had ordered and thought necessary, to ensure the safety of sailors travelling across the silver sea. Many times before the opening of the lighthouse, sailors, unable to see through the darkness, had smashed their ships against the rocks and perished. The Bone Point Light allowed them to be guided safely into the ports and commenced trade with lands far across the silver sea.

It could not have been done without Padge's support, Adin knew. Padge had rallied the Ralad builders into action and quickly enough the construction had been underway and finished, just as Adin had reached a reasonable agreement with Tora and found an able man to become the Keeper of the Light. None of it would have been possible without the support of his friends—Greel, Az-Zure, Padge, Zillah of the Mere, Asha of Hira, and of course his closest friend, Samuel, and his brother-in-law Shim. While Zara had always given him strength and love, his seven friends had given him the support he needed to make his plans and hopes for Deltora into a reality. For that, he would always be grateful to them.

Each night, himself, Zara and the children would sit in the forge sitting-room, before the blazing fire, and his children would listen as he told the tales they loved so much. Some he had heard from Greel and Tatti, the Jalis storyteller, who knew all the Tenna Birdsong Tales that ever existed. Some he himself knew, from his childhood. And there were those he had lived—the desperate battle for Deltora, and his quest to obtain the gems needed to create the magical Belt he had seen in his dreams. The children loved each and every one, but especially loved the stories which told of good triumphing over evil, and hope over despair, and love over hate and suspicion.

So Adin would tell them of how he, Zara, and the seven tribes managed to defeat the most powerful sorcerer in their world and his army against almost impossible odds; how a girl not much older than Alderic had prophesied it, and had been ridiculed and ignored by her people because they thought she was mad, forcing her to leave and settle in Del. Once there, she fell in love with a blacksmith (Adin's ancestor, and theirs, Adin told the children) and married him. He told them the tale of the girl with the golden hair and Rosnan, who loved her and followed her into the caverns of the earth to be with her. He told them of dragons of every colour who roamed the skies, and magic which could defeat the most evil of beings, and souls who never lost hope, never gave up in the face of danger and fear and everything that was the bane of them all. Adin told them, and they listened, their eyes round with awe and delight.

'But we must always remember that the Enemy, while defeated now, is not destroyed,' Adin said sombrely, as his children drank in his every word. He gazed into the fire, and for a moment could almost see again the blood, death and screams that marked the battle for their land, which he still heard and saw vividly for months afterward. This was the price that was paid for their peace and safety, the reason that he was able to sit now and speak to his children of a long ago victory against a cunning sorcerer. So many lives had been sacrificed so that their kingdom could be saved from tyranny. Though it had been worth it, his heart still ached at the losses, at the friends he would never see again.

As if sensing his thoughts, Zara leaned over and gently squeezed his hand, a small, sad smile touching her lips.

'The Belt of Deltora protects our land from the Shadow Lord,' Adin continued. Wide-eyed, his children's eyes were drawn to the gleaming Belt that lay around his waist, studded with the gems that had saved them all. Beautiful, and very, very powerful. They could indeed see how such a delicate thing could repel an evil so dire. 'It must never be cast away. Remember this, my children.' His gaze turned to young Alderic, who was listening attentively to what his father was saying, for this would be his own legacy someday. 'Wear the Belt always, and never let it out of your sight. For there will come a time when the Enemy will strike once more, and we must be ready when he does.'

'I understand, Father,' Alderic said gravely.

To one side, Leah, Ronan and Shannara nodded, their expressions deeply thoughtful. Little Alanis said nothing—she was curled in her mother's lap, Adin noted, snoring quietly as Zara softly hummed to her an ancient Toran lullaby. Seeing his glance, Zara looked up and smiled at him, and as always when she smiled like that he felt as if his entire world was bright and new and all was possible for them, if only they had each other. I love you, her eyes told him.

I know, Adin's eyes returned to her, trying to convey all the emotions he could never put into words about their incredible bond, and his joy and gratitude at Zara's steadfast loyalty, faithfulness and love for him, without which he surely would not have had the strength to carry on as far as he had. And I love you. I always will.

Later, long after they had sent their exhausted children to their beds, they sat curled together in the courtyard, gazing out at the stars. They said nothing—there was nothing to say. They simply held each other.

Take nothing for granted. The thought drifted through Adin's mind as softly as the slightest breeze as he mused. Cherish these moments, for they are hard-won, and not infinite. The Enemy is defeated, but not destroyed…

Zara's head was resting against his chest. Adin reached out and ran his fingers through the dark silk of her hair, his heart aching with a love and tenderness that was beyond reckoning.

Cherish this.

Adin breathed in the musky scent of Zara's hair and thought: Yes. Yes, always.


	5. Toran Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zara pays a visit to her brother Shim in Tora.

After ten days of frustrating, sleepless nights for Adin and Zara, it was finally decided. There was no choice about it- Alanis was leaving for Tora, and soon.

'We cannot go on like this, Adin,' Zara said, the weariness plain in her voice. She sank into the comfort of the sitting chair, and raked him with a hard gaze, daring him to tell her otherwise. 'She must go. This is wearing on both of us; you were barely awake this day in that council meeting.'

Adin only shook his head and groaned. He had hoped that small detail had gone unnoticed by his wife. It would worry her ('How can you rule our kingdom well if you are so exhausted, Adin?'), and he did not like her to be worried for any reason. But she was right, of course. Alanis was their daughter and precious to him, but this was too desperate to ignore now. All three of them were wearied to the bone by their current situation; there were dark smudges under both Adin and Zara's eyes, and their minds were hazy. Too hazy. Something had to be done. They were the king and queen—they had a responsibility to their people which they could not fulfil if they were swaying and yawning with tiredness as they were now.

'So,' he said quietly. 'She goes. Tomorrow.' There was a terrible ache in his heart at the thought. Never had he been separated from any of his children for more than a day.

'Yes.' Zara reached to cover his hand with her own, and as he looked up he saw that her eyes were filled with understanding. 'It will not be so long—just until her sleep settles. And we will be able to visit her, in time.'

'I know.' He swallowed hard. 'But it is still so hard! I did not think it would be this hard.'

'I know,' Zara whispered. She said nothing more, but leaned close to him, and Adin drew her into his arms as he always did and breathed in the scent of her hair, revelling in it. She trembled, and he gently stroked her back until he felt her still. For a long moment, they remained this way, both of them, lost in their own thoughts.

Please, fate, Adin prayed silently. Let us be strong enough for what is to come. Let our children grow in peace and happiness. Let them grow into the men and women they were born to be.

He did not know when he fell asleep. He only knew that it only felt like moments later when Zara shook him awake, with some urgency, calling his name. 'Adin!' He opened his eyes, and saw the bright light of day.

'Adin, you are late for a council meeting. Rufus has come, to speak of the state the ruby territory is in. There has been trouble, he says. And the Mere leaders are there as well; they need your help with somewhat. They will only speak to you.'

So, he thought fuzzily. We must go on. Groaning, he nodded his understanding, hauled himself to his feet, and prepared to handle the day's new responsibilities.

So it was that little Alanis was sped by Toran magic for the first time to that great city in the west. Her eyes wide with wonder, she looked upon the strange and wonderful sight she found herself in, and said not a word. The horse which bore her and her mother was swept by an unseen force, causing the countryside to blur past them like nothing she had ever seen before. Only Zara knew that far away in the city of her birth, hundreds of Torans lay awake, giving their magic to speed their way.

Sooner than any other person would have thought possible, the white marble of Tora loomed in the distance. It took Zara's breath away—called to her like Del could not, no matter how many years she had dwelt there in the forge. Always there would be some part of her which yearned for the marble city, the great city of the west. Her spirit rising, she nudged her steed further, willing it to close in the remaining distance between herself and her kin.

At the gate to the city, she was greeted by her brother Shim, who kissed her affectionately on the cheek and led her through the magical tunnel and into the city centre. As they passed, she could feel the sleeping Alanis relax ever so slightly in her arms, and she was glad of it. She had not been entirely sure that Tora could help her daughter; it had been in part desperation which had convinced her to take this risk. Now, it was a relief to know that it was true that Tora could be the answer to Alanis' hyperactivity.

They entered Shim's home—a surprisingly simple dwelling—and were welcomed by Lyra, his wife, a slender, serene lady with an easy-going manner and a beaming smile. She embraced them both, and took Alanis' weight from Zara, carefully making it so that the small girl was not awakened by the disturbance. Already, Zara found herself missing the warm burden and the feel of the small fingers clinging to her shirt, and she had to clasp her hands tightly together to prevent herself from reaching out instinctively for her daughter.

Sensing her thoughts, the other woman smiled at her. 'Do not fear, Zara. Alanis will be in safe hands here; we can promise that no harm will ever come to her, and she will never be lonely. Our own children will be happy for a new sister to play with.'

'Thank you for doing this,' Zara said. 'I hope that you have not been troubled by it.'

'Not at all,' Shim broke in firmly. 'We will always help our royal family. Never doubt that. You know, too, the pledge we made.'

She did. It was what she had been counting on, when she had written to her brother to ask him to foster Alanis. Torans took their vows very seriously; she knew from the childhood she had spent within the city walls, and from watching her kin solemnly swear against their magic and their beautiful city to be loyal to and aid her husband and his heirs in their time of need.

'Thank you,' she said again, as her brother's wife quietly carried her daughter out of the room, to her new bedchamber. Alanis did not stir even once—a miracle. In Del it had been a trial to move her anywhere without the child opening her eyes and bawling. 'Thank you for this.'

'Always, Zara,' Shim said, and it was the voice of her brother, warm and affectionate, speaking, and not the solemn Toran leader. She could not help but smile to hear it.

'I have missed you, Shim,' she said softly.

'You have not come to visit us nearly as often as I would have liked,' Shim told her. 'You have not even brought the children here to visit before now.'

'I am the queen. I must be with Adin; he needs me. Our people need both of us there in Del, leading them.'

'We need you as well,' Shim said, and his voice was matter-of-fact, clear of any anger or frustration. 'You may be queen of Deltora, but you are our sister. I have missed you greatly, these past years, and so has Lyra, Rinah and Sarmos. You are dearer to us than any gold or magic. You must know that, sister.'

She did know, and it warmed her heart to hear it said aloud. If she had been outside of Tora, she would have felt grieved as she responded. 'You know I cannot visit so much, Shim. I am more than just your sister now, and a daughter of Tora. I am the queen. It is a heavy burden, and I fear it leaves me little time of my own, but I must do it. It is my duty, to Adin and to Deltora. You know I would come more often if I was able to.'

Shim only shook his head. 'You are our sister, as well as our queen, Zara. You should remember it.'

They talked well into the night. They reclined comfortably in Toran seatings, sipping from cups of the city's best wine, chatting of things past as the candle's body grew smaller and smaller on the windowsill, heralding the passing of time. Of how they had met Adin, on that faithful day when their lives had been changed forever. Of their shared childhood, and their mother's death. Of the families they loved with all their hearts. Of the future, and the threat of the Shadow Lord which loomed close on the horizon no matter how far away the sorcerer dwelt. Someday, there would come a time when the Lord of Shadows would attempt to invade their kingdom once more, and Zara prayed that it would not come in their children's lifetime.

Soon, the dim light of dawn could be seen shining outside the window; bone-weary, Zara found herself resting her head on her brother's shoulder, and closing her eyes. It had been a long night, in which much was said. They had had much to talk about, and who knew when they would see each other again?

'Shim,' she whispered sleepily. 'I will miss you.'

'And I will miss you,' he said quietly.

Her leave-taking was sooner than she would have liked. She walked with Shim out of the city, feeling the magical calming effect of Tora escape her with every step she took. As they halted, facing one another, she felt Shim embrace her tightly, with all the feeling he could never express in Tora.

'Promise me that you will visit more often,' he said with surprising intensity. 'I have missed you so much.'

She returned his embrace, and tried to force back the lump in her throat. 'I will certainly try, brother. Alanis is here now, as well, so there is all the more reason to come. I promise.'

And with one last embrace she turned away, mounted her horse and left the marble city of Tora—and her brother- behind her once more. Almost immediately, as she nudged her steed into a canter, she could feel the magical Toran wind rise, ready to speed her on her way to Del. She did not resist it. As she felt herself pick up speed, galloping further and further away from her birth city, the ache in her heart grew, and nothing could ease it. It was always like this, these long farewells. There was nothing she could do except look to the future, and her king, in Del. So she fixed her gaze toward the distant horizon and tried to ignore the tears that she could feel slivering down her cheeks like small rivers.


	6. Dragonfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he settles to sleep in the Dreaming Dunes, Veritas thinks of his friendship with Doran and the events leading up to his sleep.

They called him Dragonfriend.

His real name was Doran, but no dragon ever spoke it aloud. To know another's name was to have control over that person, and so to speak it would be folly. Though they all knew Dragonfriend's true name, they never voiced it, in his presence or among other dragons. Likewise, Dragonfriend never revealed to his kind or any other the true names of each of the dragons he befriended, knowing in his heart that he had been entrusted with something sacred, to be treasured and kept safe.

Veritas could recall exactly when they had first met. It had been when he was still a young dragonling, hiding in his mother's shadow. Doran had appeared among the dunes, walking quietly so as not to alarm them, though they had all sensed his approach. He had been younger, then, than when Veritas last saw him. He smiled at them, and said politely, 'I do hope I am not disturbing your peace. I only wish to speak with you.'

The leader of their group—indeed, Veritas' own mother—inclined her head. 'You may,' she said gravely. 'Human.'

Humans were rare to be seen among dragons. No person was brave (or foolhardy) enough to dare approach. Except for Doran. Doran had been different. All other humans had been vicious and cruel, and fuelled by anger and hate. They dared to hunt dragons—the dragons that protected their skies. Since before the time of Adin, the dragons had done so. And now humans dared to hunt them down?

It was enough to make any dragon bugle in rage.

Only Doran dared approach them, wished to understand and befriend them. Only Doran. At first, the dragons in Veritas' family were wary, and afraid of this sole human who had come so close to their dragonlings and life. But, slowly and surely, they warmed toward him. They saw Doran play with their offspring, and try hard to learn the ways of dragons and not harm them. They felt his goodwill and the kindness in his spirit, of which there was so little in the spirits of most humans. Veritas himself had been afraid, young as he had been then, but as Doran walked among them, something eased within him. Doran was not like the others, Veritas realised. He was kind, and honest, and good. He would never hurt dragons.

Why would any human wish to hurt dragons in the first place? They were the ones who protected them, protected their skies from the one who reigned on the other side of the mountains, in the grey place now called the Shadowlands. They were the ones who culled the Granous, the sadistic creatures of the Os-Mine Hills, providing safe travels for humans in that area. Without that safety, the Granous would be a danger to every human wishing to travel through their domain. So why would humans hurt dragons, when dragons gave them so much?

Foolhardy, weak humans. Veritas could have laughed at that.

In the end, it was not the humans who almost destroyed his race.

It was the Ak-Baba.

They hunted in the skies unchecked—hunted Dragonkind. It had begun long before Veritas was born. It was because of the Ak-Baba that the amethyst dragons numbered less than one hundred in this day and age, a terrible thing for a race which had once populated the skies, soaring through them as if they were born to it and were entitled to it. And, Veritas reminded himself, they were. No matter what the Ak-Baba had done to them, no matter what the humans thought, the skies were theirs, and no one could or should be able to take it away from them.

Then why was he ensconced within a dune, preparing to go to his rest?

Doran had asked it of him. Dragonfriend. He had been trusted by Dragonkind, and he had earned that trust fairly. There was not a one among Veritas' tribe that could have claimed that Doran was not what he seemed, that he was one of the ignorant, death-seeking humans who so feared and loathed dragons.

Veritas trusted him. And so, when Doran appeared, and spoke his piece, Veritas sat still, and listened.

The Ak-Baba had done their work quickly. Within a year of the first attacks, the numbers of amethyst dragons had dwindled to Veritas, Veritas' mother and others of his immediate bloodline. And then, finally, it was just Veritas left. How could such a thing be? On the day he found his mother's carcass bloody and half-buried in the sand, he almost could not have believed it, numb as he was. Truly, was he the last?

It had taken weeks of desperate flying from one corner of his territory to the next, but at last he knew. He was alone.

It was three months after Mother's death, when Doran came. Not for the last time, no; there was one more visit, the fateful visit which had changed everything for him. That first time, the sorrow and despair beat in Veritas' heart so strongly that it blotted all else out. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, least of all the life of the last living amethyst dragon. What did it matter, if all else was dead?

Doran's appearance on the deserted beach was a spot of joy in the bleakness of Veritas' life. The man was a lone figure standing on a territory which had once been home to so many dragons but now was home to just one. It grieved Doran to see the emptiness, and his pain was writ in his eyes for Veritas to see. It comforted Veritas, in a twisted way. At least, although he was the last dragon standing, he did not have to grieve alone.

'Veritas, my friend, this is a terrible thing,' Dragonfriend said. 'You say you are the last of the amethyst dragons?'

'I am the last of my kind.' It was agony to confirm it, but it had to be said. 'No other dragon is left. Soon I too will be gone from the skies forever, and my tribe with me.' It hurt even more to say that, but Veritas felt in the marrow of his bones that it was the truth. It would not be long until the Ak-Baba hunted him down, for all he had done his best to stay hidden from them. When they found him, they would tear him to pieces as they had done his mother and tribe, and the dragons of the amethyst would be no more.

'You cannot say that,' Doran protested. 'No matter that the other dragons are slain, you are still here. If you are careful, surely you can survive.'

Oh, Dragonfriend. His eyes burned with determination, and hope, desperate to say or do something which would make this better. It warmed Veritas' heart to see how much he cared.

He had always been the best of the humans.

'I think not, Dragonfriend. My mother, my children, my friends are gone. I live now, but the Ak-Baba will come for me. I can feel it in my wings. They will not stop until no dragon flies our skies.'

Still, Doran persisted. But, however much he trusted him, Veritas could not take much heart out of his words. The reality could not be ignored any longer. He was the last remaining amethyst dragon; he would at the very end be hunted and destroyed by the Ak-Baba, if not the humans. It felt inevitable, a cloud of doom which Veritas could not escape. No matter what Doran said, he knew that soon no amethyst dragon would fly Deltora's skies.

It was during that visit that Veritas flew with Dragonfriend on his back for the last time. Amid the clouds, with the Sliver Sea shimmering far below them, they circled the coast, twisting and turning as only dragons could. It was a joy, to feel the wind rushing underneath his wings, the beautiful land that was the territory of the amethyst spread out before him. It was even more of a joy to be able to do so with Dragonfriend on his back. They landed amidst the Sleeping Dunes, and it was there that Doran left him to continue his travels. Veritas watched him go with a pang in his heart, and a feeling of intense loneliness. Once again, he was alone.

Veritas curled amid the dunes, and remembered. When Doran returned for what would be the last time, it was with a mission, an idea conjured out of desperation and the need to save the dragons he loved. It was a difficult thing, what Doran asked of him; the asking of it was just as painful. He could see it in Doran's steady, unwavering gaze and the hard set of his jaw. How Doran had garnered the courage to do it, he would never know.

'What you ask is hard, Dragonfriend.'

'Yes.'

'What of the other tribes? If I sleep, they will attack my territory. They have no scruples.' If they did attack, he would be helpless against them. Even if he had awakened from his sleep, he would still be too weak to fight back.

Doran shook his head. 'Not so. I have bound the dragons of the topaz, ruby, emerald, lapis lazuli and opal to a vow. They have sworn never to invade another dragon's territory while each dragon sleeps. They will honour the vow. I ask you now the same.'

Veritas felt the force of Doran's stare. It was heavier, filled with all the hope and desperation he had been carrying since he had set out on this mission to help his friends. Dragonfriend… If he truly believed that this was the only solution, that the other dragons would honour the promise they had made, who was he to argue otherwise? His entire tribe was in peril. Was it truly worth it to refuse Doran, just to safeguard his borders against the other dragon tribes?

Doran continued to hold his gaze, waiting. Finally, Veritas dipped his head, and heaved a sigh. 'Alright, Dragonfriend. I swear it. I will sleep, and if I wake I will not cross into any other territory while the dragon of that territory sleeps.'

'Thank you,' Doran said quietly.

And so it was that Veritas, the last of the amethyst dragons, found himself settling to sleep amidst the Dreaming Dunes, with Doran as a witness, to ensure the survival of his race. It was a fitting place to hide away while he dreamed and waited, he thought; the name itself was surely an indicator of it.

'Dragonfriend… Farewell. I will think of you in my dreams, and the good times we have shared.'

'Goodbye, Veritas, my true friend.'

Then, he closed his eyes… and heard Doran let out a shuddering breath, and thought, I am sorry, Dragonfriend, for our sacrifice. One day I will awaken, and we will fly together once more, as we have always done.

And then the darkness was upon him, and he was dreaming, of times past and a human with the heart of a dragon riding with familiar ease on the ridge of his back, the wind rushing past them as they circled the breadth of the land, reveling in all its glory. And, lost in sleep, the last dragon of the amethyst felt himself smile.


End file.
